1000 Dollars
by Figure.10
Summary: Kenny needs 1000 dollars for an awesome gaming computer. Just what, and who, will he do to get it? /SLASH/ -now complete-
1. The Industry

_**Money has always been a problem for me. My white trash family has always been on welfare and foodstamps, so when I saw the most awesome gaming computer for sale at the electronics store, I knew I'd have to buy it myself. But where's a kid like me supposed to get $1000?**_

DDDDDDDDDDDD

I figured I'd start at fatass's house. Maybe he'd pay be a couple of bucks to make him food or something. I've learned to never underestimate how much he loves to sit on his ass and watch cartoons. Me and the guys were sitting around like we normally do on Saturday, so I told them about my predicament.

"Hey, if I could do anything for you guys to earn some money that would be cool, I'm trying to buy this gaming com-"

"I have a job for you, Kenny."

Oh shit. It was Cartman's mom, who'd overheard me from her vantage point on the staircase. I'd really rather not fuck her, but I really want to run Crysis. Take one for the team, I guess. I follow her 'come hither' finger to her bedroom, getting sick looks from Stan and Kyle as I walk up the stairs. Liane's bedroom is powder-pink with strange chain-and-leather apparatuses on the ceiling and walls. I think I'm going to be sick.

"So, um, what is it you need me to do?"

Cartman's mom blushes, "Well Kenny, I don't know if you're aware of this, but Eric's mommy works in the...the industry."

"You don't say?", I deadpan.

"Yes, and well, well my love-making equipment needs to be in tip-top shape- and clean, so I don't get the AIDS."

My eyes widen. I think I'd rather fuck her at this point. "You want me to clean your sex toys?"

"It sure would be a big help."

I stare at her, sweating both from heat and fear.

"I'll pay you $10."

_Cha-ching!_

"Where do I start?"

DDDDDDDDDDDD

Cleaning Liane's, er, 'love-making' equipment is disgusting. I've got every cleaner in the house and I've been at it for about an hour. The guys thought it was real funny and came in to see me, but left after Stan threw up. I had to clean that up, too.

So here I am, wiping seamen and god knows what else off a 2-foot-long double dildo for $10.

I have a feeling earning $1000 is going to be easier said than done.

Hehe, I should be working on Wasteland...but this is really fun. Please review, and alert if you'd like to find out just what Kenny is willing to do for $1000!


	2. Broski

I was just about to go home and take a long shower when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey Kenny?"

It was Kyle. He looked a little embarrassed, so I flung my arm around him and winked. "What's up, kosher boy?"

Kyle flinched a little at the contact. He blushed harder and began to mumble. "You..you said you needed money, right?"

"Yeah"

"Well I have $100 I could give you fo-"

Fuck yeah! $100! "That's awesome Kyle, I'm gonna go home and shower right now, but I'll be over at your place around..oh..6ish?", I grinned widely at him as I turned to leave, "kay?"

"Um.."

"Great. See you soon!"

I wondered what Kyle could possibly want from me, though I admit I was a little distracted by the white gunk under my fingernails.

DDDDDDDDDDDD

Feeling refreshed and free from the semen of strange crackheads, I practically skipped, hopped, and jumped to Kyle's house. I wondered what exactly Kyle needed me to do for $100. Maybe he would just give it to me. I smiled at this thought as I knocked on the Broflovski's door.

"Oh hello, Kenny, Kyle's waiting for you in his room."

I gave Sheila a confident smile and headed up the stairs, still wondering what a smart, rich guy like Kyle could want from a dumb, poor guy like me.

I swung open the dark green door to find Kyle sitting on his bed wearing a wifebeater, Terrance & Philip boxers, and a weak smile.

"H-hey Kenny."

I was surprised he wasn't more dressed up. Not that I hadn't seen Kyle in boxers before. Hell, we used to run around naked together all the time. Before puberty. "So, what is it you want me to do?"

He blushed deeper and bit his lip, then whispered something, eyes scrunched closed, body pulled up as if in fear.

"What?"

I walked closer and Kyle spoke slightly louder this time. "You, you'll really do _anything_ for $100?"

Feeling a little worried that this job was going to be particularly awful, I sat next to him on the bed. "Sure Broski, anything."

"You promise never, ever to tell anyone about this?"

I admit I was a little surprised. "Sure, this transaction will be between you, me, and my wallet."

Kyle still looked unsure, pulling one leg up and wrapping his arms around it, fingers tapping idly on his feet. I wondered if he knew I could see up the leg of his boxers. Kyle's usually a lot more reserved when it comes to dress.

"OK, well, if you promise not to tell anybody...", Kyle sighed and rested his head on his knee, "Kenny, I'm gay."

I'm kind of surprised, especially since Stan had always been the faggy one. Sorry, the _other_ faggy one.

"Hey, that's cool Kyle", I reassured him, "I won't treat you any different."

"Except I want you to."

I looked at him, still blushing madly, still all curled up around himself.

"Wha-"

"Just this once", he swallowed and looked up at me, "Kenny...I want you to take my virginity."

My brain didn't comprehend those words immediately. But my cock did. Still, I felt confused. I do have a conscious you know. Stupid thing.

"Um..are you sure?"

"I just..yeah, but I'm scared", Kyle looked at me a little anxiously. I reached over and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'll take good care of you."

I couldn't believe this was happening. As I leaned forward to kiss him, softly, still a bit unsure, I wondered why Kyle wanted me to do this. I guess I am the most, er, experienced when it comes to sex. But I've never had _gay_ sex before. Well except for that one time. And that other time. And then there was that threesome, but man, I was pretty drunk.

Before I knew it I was holding him against me, his hands shaking their way down my chest. I'd be in high quality, grade-A denial if I said this wasn't turning me on. I never seriously questioned my heterosexuality before, but right now I want to fuck Kyle in to the mattress and hear him scream my name.

That's pretty gay.

I start kissing him harder, pushing him down on to the bed. I could see the blush on his cheeks blurredly when I opened my eyes. He was so fucking scared and I loved it. Kyle tastes like more than $100.

"Am I being too rough?", I whispered, grinding myself on him.

Kyle whimpered and held on to me tighter. I'll take that as a 'no'.

I stroked his nipples through his wifebeater, slowly pulling it up, licking at his chest and stomach. I could feel him squirm under me and hear him growl my name.

I started pulling off my jacket and shirt. Kyle was looking at me with his lips slightly parted, still wet from my assault on them earlier. I still don't know how my bro Kyle can look hotter than any girl I've ever boned, but godammit he does.

The next bit is still kind of a blur for me. Just touching him, kissing him all over. I couldn't stand the thought that there might still be an inch of his skin I hadn't tasted. Kyle just made the most erotic sounds. It made him addicting. Clothes seemed to come off of their own accord, and soon we were completely naked.

I reached blindly for Kyle's night stand, my mouth still glued on to his. I found a bottle of lotion and broke the kiss to pump some into my hand.

"What are you doing?"

Holy shit he really is a virgin, I thought to myself, rubbing the stuff on my cock.

"I can't fuck you without lube, babe."

Kyle opened his mouth to speak. I spread his legs and rubbed myself up and down his ass, lifting him up to kiss him again. No more complaints from Kyle.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?", I whispered to him, "just try to relax."

"mmgh..mmhmm." He was almost shaking, holding on to my shoulders to steady himself.

I pushed in slowly. Kyle swore and shook around me. He was so damn tight, I was all I could remember to go slow. One more gentle thrust and Kyle cried out and held on to my shoulders tighter.

"I...I don't think it'll fit."

"Yes it will"

Tears started forming in Kyle's eyes as I thrust in to him deeper. The feeling of his warm body around me, barely able to take my cock in, was amazing. I stroked him slowly as I continue to push. Kyle whimpered, tears starting to run down his face.

"You want- want me to stop?"

"N-no", Kyle breathed, burying his head in my shoulder, "deeper...oh God Kenny, deeper."

"One more, okay?"

He nodded franticly against my neck and I obeyed, thrusting all the way inside. Kyle screamed and grabbed fistfuls of my hair. I wouldn't of cared if he'd stuck his finger in my eye, being balls-deep in Kyle Broflovski was heaven.

"Nng..Kyle", I growled, starting to kiss him feverishly again, "You..feel..so fucking good."

He moaned my name into my mouth. I lowered him down on the bed again and started up an agonizingly slow pace. My cock was throbbing and my balls wanted nothing more than to fill this kid, but hey, I was on the job.

Kyle held his legs open for me as I started to thrust harder and stroke him. I could feel myself nearing the edge but fought to hold back, I was determined that Kyle would cum first.

"Ah-faster!"

He hooked his elbows around his knees as I pounded into him, the look on his face could of made me bust a nut at a funeral. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh fuck...Kyle...", I gave a few strong thrusts as I pumped cum in to him. Kyle cried my name and followed suit, I'm pretty sure some of it went as far as my hair.

It was all I could do to pull out, flopping down next to a panting Kyle on his bed, exhausted.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing I turned to Kyle, wiped the sweat from my brow and said, "That was $100 right there."

..And only $890.00 to go.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Review plz?


	3. Soapy

The next day my thighs were still sore. I had never worked harder for $100 in my life. I could even feel the spots on my shoulders that Kyle had clung to when I came inside him. Seeing him the day afterwards when I went to Stan's to eat lunch was awkward. Between the times where I didn't want to talk to him at all were the ones I wanted to lean over to him and say 'how about a quickie?'. Just to see him squirm and blush, of course. Goddammit. Remember what I said about grade-A denial?

"Stanley tells me you're looking to earn some money this summer."

I looked up from the table to see Sharon Marsh looking at me with that kind, motherly smile she always gave me, like I wasn't just in her house to eat her food.

"Well yeah", I answered, still chewing a piece of Manwich, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually, if you could wash my van after lunch, I'll give you $15."

I swallowed my piece of Manwich and nodded vigorously. Fuck yeah fifteen dollars.

DDDDDDDDDDD

After lunch I went home to put on something my mom would let me get dirty. These were my _good _jeans with holes in them, after all. I found a pair that used to be Kevin's when he was my age. Judging by the way they fit me, he didn't reach puberty until he was 20. Feeling frustrated and more than a little angry at my lucky genetic break, I grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen and proceeded to cut the jeans into shorts. In my anger my cutting skills were reduced by about 80%, and I realised that both leg holes weren't even.

"Shit!"

Since I couldn't make one side longer, I made the other shorter. I was just about to put them on and go find a shirt speedy-fast when I noticed that the side that was previously longer was now shorter. With my tongue firmly planted between my lips I went back to the scissors, the shorts now making the ones at _Raisins_ look like something out of Amish country.

I pulled on my hoochie shorts and ran to grab a shirt, settling for a white sleeveless tee emblazoned with the words '_Hell was full, so I'm back_'. My dad found it at a Goodwill and it's so fucking appropriate.

I took a deep breath before opening the door and walking outside. Walking down to Stan's house looking like a male prostitute shouldn't be a problem. That is, unless I run into...

"Ha ha! Kinny you look like a fuckin' faggot!"

"Oh hi Cartman."

Goddammit Cartman. The kid had a look on his face like he had just won a year supply of Cheesy Poofs. Not fucking now. I had work to do, and I was already late.

"Well I gotta go, see ya' around."

I took off running for Stan's house, kind of enjoying the way the denim cradled my junk. I'm such a fuckin' faggot.

DDDDDDDDDDD

"Um..Kenny?"

"Listen, Stan, I can explain." The way he was looking me up and down made me afraid he'd drop his fruit punch.

"They were the only clothes I had left, okay?" I started blushing anyway. Goddamn Kevin and his micropenis.

"Hey, Stan's mom told me to bring you this stuff and to not forget to scrub the hubcaps becau- oh what the balls!" Kyle dropped the bucket full of sponges, rags, and soap to stare at me openly, mostly at the aforementioned area.

"He says he didn't have anything else to wear.", Stan said flatly.

I took a deep breath and ran a hand back through my hair, "Just let me wash the van, okay? This has been humiliating enough already."

"Actually, uh.."

"What?", I ask Stan, sounding meaner than intended.

Stan blushed deep red, "Mom asked me to watch you to make sure you did a good job-"

"I'll do it", Kyle chimed in, "Can you get me a punch, Stan?"

Stan walked wearily back into the house to get Kyle a fruit punch. The look in his eyes was confused and priceless, though it was hard to tell with him avoiding eye contact with as many parts of me as possible, which was hard considering so many of them were on display.

I took the bucket from Kyle wordlessly and turned around towards the van. This might have been the most awkward situation I've ever been in. I'm dressed like a stripper in front of a guy I had amazing, secret sex with yesterday. Oh, and I'm about to be covered in soap and water like Jessica Simpson in that Carl's Jr. ad. I wasn't sure whether this was really bad or really awesome.

I picked up the sponge and dipped it in the soap, moving to slather the stuff over the Marsh's silver Toyota minivan, when the sexy piece of man-ass behind me grabbed my arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Washing the car."

Kyle stared at me like I was completely incompetent. "You have to get it wet first, then you make suds with the soap and..and you ever even washed a car?"

"I've never had one that ran."

Kyle sighed and went to get the hose. I guess I should have figured water would be involved. I blamed him for distracting me. Him and his ass-hugging jeans and his Science camp T-shirt. Fuck you, Kyle Broflovski.

"Here", Kyle said as he handed me the spray nozzle, "Rinse the loose dirt off first, then wash, scrub, rinse again, and dry."

I took the hose from his hand and pushed down on the spray trigger, just as Stan came back out with Kyle's punch.

"Did you want fruit or-"

Kyle's other punch choice was blasted out of Stan's mouth by a jet of water.

"Oh shit, sorry Stan." I quickly aimed the hose at the van and Stan glared at me, soaking wet. Amazingly the glass of fruit punch wasn't disturbed. Kyle grabbed it and Stan dripped back inside his house to change, mumbling something about asswaffles and my relation to them.

"Heh, be careful with that thing, it's really powerful", Kyle warned me before taking his first sip.

"That's what I told your mom last night", I answered, starting to wash off the side of the van.

Kyle blushed and swallowed, almost exactly like he did in the dream I had the night before.

"You shut up about my mom."

"_Make _me."

In a fit of red-headed Jew fury, Kyle sloshed his nearly full glass of punch at me. I laughed and turned the hose on him. He spluttered under the jet of water and swore at me, grabbing the hose from my hands and spraying me with it.

"Are you okay out there, boys?"

We turned to see Mrs. Marsh, wearing a sun dress and looking me and Kyle up and down.

"Uh, sorry Mrs. Marsh..", Kyle apologised.

I smiled sheepishly as she shook her head and went back inside. No more fooling around. Time to get soapy.

DDDDDDDDDDD

"You need any help?", Kyle asked.

He had been watching me lather sudsy soap on the van for a while now, looking kind of uncomfortable. I think I know why, too. It's one of the only hot summer days of the year, and I'm sweating. I'm dripping wet, wearing Daisy dukes, and covered in patches of soap bubbles. I have a feeling I might have looked appealing in some way.

"Actually, Kyle", I purred, flexing my arm as I leaned over and daubed at a windsheild wiper, "If you could help me rinse off that would be great."

"Yeah, of course."

He turned on the hose and grabbed the spray nozzle out of the soap bucket. I decided to torture him just a little bit more.

"Mmm..it sure is hot out here." Kyle turned to me, watching with the hose in his hand as I pulled my sleeveless shirt over my head. I pushed the soapy wet sponge in my hand to my shoulder, letting the water and bubbles run down my exposed chest.

"Mmm..."

Kyle bit his lip. I ran my tongue along my front teeth, determined to break him.

"You're such an asshole."

"I've been a very dirty boy..", I replied huskily, running a hand over my nipples.

"Oh Goddamn it Kenny-" Kyle pushed me up against the side-door and kissed me, sending an arc of water soaring over the wet van to the other side.

"Jesus fuck not again!", spluttered a voice from the lawn.

"Sorry, Stan."

"Son of an asswaffle..."

DDDDDDDDDDD

Hehe.. this was pretty fun to write.

If you have any ideas for what Kenny should do for money, please tell me in your review! I need an idea for the next chapter. The others I've pretty much figured out. ;)

If I use your idea I will credit you. :D


	4. Bait and Switch

After getting home and changing in to something more..manly, I decided to take a walk down by the rail road tracks. I figured with enough humidity in the air, I wouldn't have to shower.

It's usually very calm down here, especially in the evening. The homeless people are usually asleep by now. I made my way lazily down the tracks, looking up when I heard the sound of boots trudging through snow behind me.

"Craig?"

"Hey asshole."

Craig is such a nice guy.

"So, what are doin' out here?"

"I was fishing.", he answered, holding up his fishing pole and looking at me like I had down syndrome. You do not want to see the way Craig looks at people with down syndrome. I guess I should have noticed the fishing pole and tin can of worms, though.

"Oh...that's nice."

"You?"

"Just takin' a walk...I live right on the other side of these tracks, ya' know." I gave him a little smile. He returned it with a blank stare. "I'm..kinda looking for money right now, if there's anything I could do for you.."

"Well I guess I could give you five bucks."

"Really?", I admit I was amazed, Craig has always sort of hated me. A lot.

"Yeah", he answered with a smirk, "If you eat this worm." Craig grabbed a fat brown worm from the tin can and held it up.

"No problem." I hopped off my piece of track and closed the gap between us, grabbed the worm from his hand, and stuffed it in my mouth.

"Aww, sick, dude!", Craig laughed, watching me chew and swallow the thing.

I smiled up at him. "I believe you owe me five dollars?"

Craig smirked. He reached into his back pocket and handed me a fiver. "That was impressive, McCormick." I was about to thank him for the only compliment he'd ever given me when he continued. "You really are a whore, aren't you?"

"Uhh...I wouldn't say-", I stammered.

"You'll do anything for money. You're a whore."

I really couldn't argue with that logic. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Alrighty then, suck my dick."

"What?"

"I'll pay you..", Craig dug his hand through his pocket, "thirty six dollars."

My mind was spinning. The guy that had always hated me, that I had always kind of envied, was offering me thirty six dollars to give him a blowjob.

"Deal."

Craig smirked again. The look in his eyes now was frighting. He handed me the money without taking his eyes off me. Craig was acting creepier than usual, and normal creepy levels for Craig are quite high. He dropped his fishing pole and can of worms on the ground.

"Get on your knees."

The tone of his voice was commanding and without feeling.

"Uh..I thought I could take you back to my house and-"

"I'm not going to your hovel.", he snorted.

"What if someone sees?" The panic in my voice was apparent now.

"Just an advertisement for your services, eh?"

Before I could complain, Craig grabbed my hair and forced me to my knees in front of him. "C-cool it, man!"

Craig just chuckled and opened his fly. "You're such a little bitch, McCormick."

Before I knew it I was staring directly at Craig's wang, which proved to be as big as his ego. I grabbed around the base of it and licked the head softly, looking up at Craig's reaction. He smiled, the hand in my hair scratching my scalp lightly.

"C'mon, earn your money."

It was humiliating and arousing at the same time, so confusing that I wasn't sure where one feeling ended and the other began. I pushed my head forward enough to take about an inch in, swirling my tongue around the head. When I got no response I moved deeper. Craig tightened his grip on my hair and thrust forward, tripping my gag reflex.

"MMHHFF."

He laughed and thrust again before I could adjust. My face was smashed into a wall of dark pubic hair. He thrust harder and groaned. I braced myself on his hips and pulled back, a few strands of my hair leaving my head. My eyes watered and my nostrils flared. Craig swore as I started bobbing up and down. He regained hold of my hair and continued thrusting, a mix of saliva and pre-cum was dripping down my chin.

"Deeper, you little slut!"

I couldn't believe how much this was turning me on. I never considered my respect for Craig to be homoerotic, but right then I was fantasising about him tying me up, pushing me against a wall, and fucking me with his big thick cock. I've got a boner just from thinking about it. That's pretty gay.

Craig thrusts a few more times before pushing into my mouth and holding himself there. I swallow the best I can. I can feel his cock pulse as sticky liquid floods my mouth. I think I had a dream once where I came this much. It dripped down my chin and onto my shirt.

"Mmm..ah that's thirty six dollars right there.."

I pulled back, unsure of weather or not that was a compliment. My vision was blurry as I looked up at Craig, who was standing over me with a look in his eyes I don't feel comfortable describing.

"Heh..look at you kneeling there with cum dripping off your mouth", Craig laughed, "Here's your money..you earned it."

He pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket, threw it in my face, zipped up his fly, and turned around and left.

I'm not sure if I'm proud of this one.


	5. Only The Water Is Free

After last night's little...incident, I was feeling pretty un-manly. In fact ever since I started trying to earn money for that computer I've been feeling like a real queer. First I fucked my best friend, then I washed a car in Daisy Dukes, then my worst enemy practically face-raped me. I had a feeling I was going to need some serious counselling after this.

I decided to go down to Happy Burger and get some fries. With the spending money I had on me it was either that or a hot-dog, and given the choice I opted for the less phallic of the two foods. I instantly recognised the girl behind the counter. It was South Park's very own town slut, Bebe Stevens.

"Hey babe.", I greeted her, coupled with my standard sexy wink.

"Just order, Kenny, I don't have all day." Bebe said, blushing.

"Damn girl, just sayin' hello...I'll have a small order of French fries and...", I checked my jacket pocket, "Is the water free?"

Bebe rolled her eyes. "You're so fuckin' poor, Ken."

I put my money on the counter and she rang me up. "Well I'm trying to save money for a laptop F.Y.I."

I watched her face pink a little behind her messy blonde curls. She looked at me innocently, which for Bebe means exactly the opposite. I gave her a small smile in return, wondering what she was thinking in that little blonde head of hers. It couldn't be worse than what I was thinking in mine.

"So, you need money?", she asked me shyly, as a pissed-off looking dude behind the counter handed me my Happy Fries and free cup of water (fuck yeah).

"Yeah", I reply candidly, "anything I can do for you?"

Bebe looked around to make sure the French fryer was gone before nodding. I smiled again, more sincere this time. I know that smile, and I know what comes after it, too.

DDDDDDDDDDDDD

"Mhm..Ken..", Bebe breathed against my neck, "What do you want to do to me?"

I had her pinned in the corner behind the vending machine now, kissing her like I hadn't gotten any action in a week. What a terrible lie. She had her legs wrapped around my hips, grinding against me. It felt so warm. I had never made-out in the back room of a Happy Burger before, but I suppose there's a first time for everything. At least this time it's with a girl.

"You want me to stop so I can make a list?"

She laughed in that cute tinkling way she has and pulled at the zipper on my jacket. "Fuck me, Kenny."

I smiled into our next kiss and slowly set her down. Bebe unzipped my jacket and slid it off my shoulders onto the floor behind us. I kept one arm fencing her in the corner while I unzipped my fly.

"How much is that worth?", I said lowly, gesturing to my now exposed and fully erect cream cannon.

She looked down and bit her lip. "I don't have that much money."

I laughed. "You're too sweet, babe."

Bebe pulled her Happy Burger shirt over her head, her hair bouncing down to her shoulders. I pinned her in the corner again with a kiss, hands exploring every part of her curvy torso they could reach. Not setting the price beforehand made me want to earn as much as I could. Sometimes I think that girl might be smarter than me.

She lifted her eyebrows as she unhooked her pink and black bra. She threw it to the side and wrapped her arms around my neck again, bringing me back into a kiss. Bebe's tits are like melons, so round and full. I grabbed one and started massaging it, pinching her nipple softly and making her gasp. I've never asked her but she must be at least a D. D for Damn.

I reached into my pocket for an emergency condom with the hand that hadn't just switched to Bebe's other breast. As soon as she heard the crinkle of the packet she grabbed it out of my hand.

"Lemme do it.", she said with a frisky smile.

I watched as she knelt down and grabbed my cock. Bebe ripped open the condom wrapper and put it in her mouth. What happened next I can only describe in a series adverbs and swear words. Getting head from Bebe Stevens is like ego torture because you have to fight not to come in the first five minutes. Luckily she stopped when the condom was on. I've still money to earn.

I pushed my pants down and kicked them to the side before undoing Bebe's, sliding her black Dickies down her hips slowly, feeling the contour of her body between my hands. I cupped her ass and kissed her again, then lifted her up and pinning her against the wall for the third time. Her pink thong wouldn't be a problem.

"You ready for me?", I asked huskily.

She moaned 'yeah' into my ear and grabbed my shoulders, wrapping her legs around me again. The idea of just holding her there, completely under my control, while I was doing her seemed awesome. I positioned my cock at her entrance, feeling the wet heat already surround me.

"Three..two.._one_.."

"_Kenny_..ah.."

She takes me all in slowly until I can feel her mons on my pubic hair. Bebe is the one who convinced me to stop shaving my balls. She has this weird hair fetish. She grabs at it and kisses it and uses it like handlebars. Luckily that's the hair on my head.

I start thrusting slowly but she keeps pushing herself down.

"You want it faster, don't you.", I smirk.

"Mmm..please.."

"You asked for it.."

I grabbed her hips and slammed into her as fast as I could, spreading my legs on the floor for better traction. Bebe threw her head back and screamed my name. Her tits bounced against my chest. Maybe I should have been worried about someone hearing us or walking in the door, but I could think about was Bebe squeezing around me, in front of me, and behind me. And about how goddamn close I was.

I slowed down my pace a little, bringing the moaning girl into a kiss again, but trying to control my tongue and my cock at the same time was infuriating and downright impossible. Sweat was sticking my hair to my forehead even as Bebe ran her fingers through it, grabbing a handful and tightening her grip on it every time I hit deep inside her.

"Kenny!", she threw her arms around my neck and I stopped thrusting. She can't cum while I'm still going, which I might have a problem with if her orgasms didn't feel like better than her blowjobs, But they do.

I grunted and pushed her farther into the corner, grabbing her hips to keep her stable as I came. She moaned and shivered around me. I pulled out and set her down, still shaking. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and pulled off the condom, holding it up like a trophy.

"So I believe you owe me some money, ma'am?"

Bebe grinned. "I'll give you $200, first thing at school tomorrow."

I admit I was surprised. I don't think I've ever had $200 on me my whole life. Until a few days ago.

"Woah...thanks!"

She winked. "You're worth it."

Bebe Stevens was the best I ever had. Until a few days ago.

DDDDDDDDDDDDD

EWW- HET.

Well I told you it was just Kenny doing stuff people for money, didn't I?

Don't worry, they'll be more chapters- until Kenny earns $1000...STAY TUNED FOR THE EXCIETING CONCLUSION.

_Also If you review I will love you forever :3_


	6. Stan's Vagina

Bebe gave me my money before math class, which was the only good thing about the morning. I failed my test and found out that due to budget cuts, there would be no more art class. So long easy elective credits. I think they should cut shop class, that one really kills me. Really. Sitting in history, second period, waiting for our teacher to get the documentary set up isn't all that fun either.

"Could somebody help me with this thing?", our exasperated teacher asks, "Kenny, what about you?"

"I don't know much about DVD players, Mrs. Bargepole.", I answered. It's true, I still have a VCR.

Mrs. Bargepole is built like a brick shithouse and her classes are about as fun as visiting one. She wears her hair in a beehive that's so tight it pulls her skin up into a deceiving smile. I watch with disinterest as she shuffles around in front of the TV, pushing buttons and swearing under her breath. I look down at the blank page of my Orgazmo notebook and pick up my pencil. I start doodling idling what eventually becomes

"Here, I'll help you."

Stan is so nice. He's always helping people. Though I kind of wish he wouldn't this time, because when the teacher sets up this boring documentary we'll have to watch it. Still, the guy means well. I wonder why he hangs out with a kid like me. As I watched him try to communicate with Mrs. Bargepole about the difference between the TV remote and the DVD remote, I can't help but remember all the times he's helped me out.

When I was six, Stan taught me how to tie my shoes. I still forget sometimes, though...that's why I'm wearing Vans today. When I was ten he took me with him on his family trip to Disneyland. I remember how awesome the Indiana Jones ride was, even if it did bring back painful memories. Stan has always had my back when I need him; he's a real bro. Maybe he could do it one more time.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Lucky for me and my conniving schemes, I had football practice after school with Stan. Unluckily for all of us, due to budget cuts we don't have footballs any more, so we played with frozen cow shit wrapped in a dish-rag. The trick is to catch it before it melts. I spot Stan on the other end of the field warming up, and I run over to him like the game depends on it.

"Hey dude!"

"Hey Kenny", he responded, and started stretching his other leg, "what's up?"

"Actually I'm in sort of a tight spot right now."

Stan frowned a little and stopped stretching. He looked up at me expectantly without his usual smile. Maybe he was remembering the last time I asked him to help me out. I swore up and down I had no idea it was illegal. I hope he'd forgiven me.

"What's wrong?"

I shuffled my feet in the dirt and my reply was mumbled. "I kinda need some money."

Stan laughed and patted me on the back. "You always 'kinda need some money', Ken."

"Yeah, but this time it's not for food or clothes or any gay stuff like that, it's for a computer."

"A computer?", He frowned slightly and taped his chin in mock concern, "Well I don't really have any extra money right now, I'm taking Wendy to the fair."

Goddamn Wendy and the goddamn fair. What have those stupid cows ever done for me? I think they've even killed me a few times. I'm sure they meant to. Evil things, cows are.

"I'll do anyyythiiing...", I pleaded, sticking out my bottom lip and trying to look adorable.

"Well I guess I could give you a few bucks..." Stan sighed and reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a handful of crumpled bills. "But I need some help, too."

I tried to hide my look of surprise, as I pocketed the money, $14.03. What could Stan possibly want from po' little Kenny McCormick?. I didn't have anything to give him. I didn't even have any marketable skills. I'm pretty lame like that.

"Thanks, dude", I say gratefully, "what is it I can do for ya'?"

Stan looked around to make sure everyone was on the other side of the soccer field before putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me behind the bleachers. What could he be planning on getting from me? Unless...oh great, so first Kyle wants to me to fuck him, and now Stan? Well, that...that might not be so bad. I got a little lost in my thoughts, thinking about how I was going to do this. Maybe I should do him doggy style. Yeah. I thought about what Stan's body must look like from all the soccer he does. Definitely worth fourteen bucks, right?

"Okay dude, how are we doing this?", I ask, starting to take off my shirt.

Stan looks thoroughly confused. "What?"

"Oh..sorry." I pull my shirt back down. I admit I'm just the tiniest bit disappointed.

"Anyway, I er, need some advice."

I grinned and tookea seat on the grass underneath the bleachers. I patted the spot next to me. Advice is one thing I give very well. It's free, after all. Stan smiled weakly and sat down opposite me. So he's nervous, huh? Well Stan's little jock problems can't be that bad. Hell, he has food to eat every night, and a girlfriend.

"It's about Wendy", he admits, twisting his arm and avoiding eye contact, "damn it, this is embarrassing..."

"Aw, c'mon dude, you know you can tell me anything."

Stan took a deep breath and I held mine.

"Wendy and I...we've had sex a few times, ya' know, but I can't..", He stopped and mumbled his next words. I couldn't understand a thing.

"You can't what?", I inch closer.

"I can't make..oh goddamn it, I can't make her orgasm, all right?"

Stan seemed pissed. I really hoped I could help him with this, I'm never had that problem before. With girls or guys. I put my hand on his back and tapped lightly. Poor shmuck.

"Don't feel bad, I might have some ideas."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah, this is Kenny McCormick you're talkin' to- I know the female body better than I know my own."

Stan smirked and leaned back into my touch. He was still blushing like mad, but I think he'll talk now. All I had to worry about is what to say next. I was having problems with that one. Thinking about Wendy having an orgasm isn't the best tactic to help my concentration.

"So, what should I do?"

"Have you tried fingering her?" That thought is distracting as well.

"Kinda."

"You can't 'kinda' finger a girl, Stan."

"Well I didn't know if she'd like it."

I face-palmed. "Dude, when were 8 and we started that boy band, remember what I said about fingerbang?"

I see recollection dawn on Stan's face as he thinks back. "Yeah..and now you mention it, I remember something else, too."

"What?"

"One time, I found the clitoris."

All right, now it's my turn to be confused. The sort of misty, far-off look he's got in his eyes makes me think Stan's been hittin' the cheese again. I removed my hand from his back (it was getting kind of awkward anyway), and gave him my best 'what the hell' stare.

"Oh..during the American-Canadian war, I found the clitoris", Stan explained, as if this would clear everything up, "anyway, how do I find it again?"

I shook my head and blinked. "Um, all right...here, _this_ is a vagina." I shrugged off my backpack and zipped it open, taking out my Orgazmo notebook and a pencil. I balanced the notebook on my knee and sketched one of my favourite things in the whole wide world.

"Now, find the clitoris Stanley.", I instructed him in a fake British accent. He blushed again and punched my arm.

"Now this is serious, c'mon."

"It's just really embarrassing...", Stan lamented, "Just, just show me what you do."

I smiled and raised my eyebrows. "Well I'm gonna need something three dimensional...hold out your fist."

Stan snickered a bit, feeling better about no longer being tested on his clit-finding skills, and did as he was told. I parted his fingers a bit to make a small hole, then twisted his arm so his thumb was pointed upwards, elbow now resting on his thigh. I then explained to him as seriously as I could that this was only a demonstration, and to leave all questions till the end.

I carefully lifted up his hand and slowly traced the outside of Stan's fingers with my tongue. He stopped smirking and shifted uncomfortably in the grass. I smiled into his hand. Something about making Stan Marsh uncomfortable and angry is just so fulfilling. I pushed my tongue deeper into the apex of his thumb and forefinger, swirling around tightly.

"Um..Kenny?"

I chose to ignore Stan's uncertainty and inserted a finger carefully into his fist, pushing at the wall of fingers before adding another. Pulling back, I looked up to see the blush that was quickly deepening on his cheeks. This was too fun. I started slowly fingering Stan's fist and pushing delicately at the top of his fingers. I might have been into this whole hand-vagina thing a little too much.

"I hope you're remembering this."

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and hid his face from me as I continued to fingerfuck his hand in earnest.

There's a point when you're pleasuring your friend's hand that it starts to feel...awkward. That feeling started to settle in right about the time I went back to lick Stan's imaginary clitoris. I looked up at him again. It suddenly felt weird to be doing something so intimate, even if it was just a joke, just for the sake of sex education. I felt I should make up for it somehow.

"Uh..sorry.", I mumbled, giving Stan a little kiss on the cheek.

I wasted no time high-tailing it out of there. Goddamn it Kenny, why must you kiss everything with a vagina?

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

FUCKIN' PARAGRAPHS- HOW DO THEY WORK?

This got really weird at the end. What's up with me and hand sex?

~(?_?)~


	7. The Gravy Is The Best Part

After my awkward hand-sex with Stan, I thought maybe it was time to stop asking my friends for money. You know, get a real job. I only had $380.03 so far. Panic was starting to set in. I needed something more than being a cheap whore to make the $617.97 I needed, unless I got a whole lot better at whoring. I decided against it. I honestly didn't see any room for improvement. No, Kenny McCormick needed a job, a real job with a boss and weekly pay. A real _career_.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

"Welcome to KFC, may I take your order?", I said blandly into the microphone. The woman on the other end mumbled something.

"What?" She repeated herself again and I still couldn't hear.

"Sorry, my mom drank while she was pregnant, can you please speak up?"

The woman gave her order very loudly. There were some words in there I don't think we have on the menu. She must have really be craving that gravy. I sighed and told her It would be $5.18 at the window. I felt ridiculous taking ungrateful people's orders while wearing a stupid chicken shirt and a dumb little hat. I thought at least the microphone would be cool, but it was full of static and pinched my head. I even got a name-tag so that people would know who to cuss at when I got their order wrong. The first day is always the hardest, right?

Luckily, I didn't get drive-thru duty all day. Apparently too many people were complaining. My manager , Mr. Clark, was a pretty nice old guy and he said I could just do clean up today. I thanked him and he told me to stop touching him so I grabbed some dish soap and headed for the sink.

"We don't need the pans washed right now.", Mr. Clark said, "Go and clean the toilets."

I was starting to think he wasn't such a nice guy, after all.

While I cleaned out the toilets, I let my mind wander. I wished I could have gotten a job at Happy Burger. Then I could screw Bebe all the time. I know she'd let me, that girl just loves the cock. Unfortunately, it's not just mine, if you know what I mean. I sighed. It's hard having a girlfriend, anyway. You have to do a bunch of shit for her or she'll get mad. You can't look at other girls and you can't watch porn...or you just have to hide it very well.

I was about to move on to the last stall, when Mr. Clark called me to the counter. He told me to 'hold down the fort' while the guy that was working there took a break. I straightened my gay little hat and complied. Anything is better than bathroom detail.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

The only crappy thing about working at a fast-food place, besides the mean drive-thru people, and the nasty bathrooms, and your stoner co-workers, and..well come to think of it, _one _crappy thing about it- is that your friends can come in and see you at any time. I wasn't too worried about the guys coming in, though. They care about me too much to embarrass me on the job, right?

Not when KFC is involved, they don't.

I heard the bell on the front door ring and looked up to see my next customers, Cartman, Stan, and Kyle. Sometimes I really hate those guys. Stan waved at me. I quickly busied myself with the butter and honey packets behind the counter. He and Kyle might be nice to me, but Cartman was sure to tear me a new one.

"Hey, Kenny!"

Thanks, Stan. Thanks a lot.

"Hehheh..hey dude." I stood up and smiled weakly at him. Cartman still seemed preoccupied with the menu, but Kyle smiled back.

"So, you're working at KFC now, huh?", Kyle asked.

Before I could answer, 'no, I just broke in and stole a hat', Cartman took the time to notice that chicken wasn't the only interesting thing around him. He broke out laughing, stopping only when he ran out of breath- in about a minute.

"Oh..oh this is _too_ sweet!", he gasped, clutching his side, "Kinny works at KFC!"

I frowned at folded my arms. Stan came to my defence. "Hey, lay off him, at least he has a _job_!"

Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to shut Cartman up. "So what, do they pay you in food stamps?"

"Cut it out, fatass." It was Kyle's turn to intervene. I couldn't help but notice that his jacket was open, and that the black shirt he was wearing seemed to fit him especially well. Maybe it's just this hat I'm wearing, but Kyle makes me feel so gay sometimes.

"Whatever", Cartman brushed them off, "Get me a bucket of crispy chicken, wage slave, and if you forget the gravy I'll kick you in the nuts."

I sighed and went to put 10 pieces of heat-lamped chicken into a bucket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stan and Cartman take seats at a booth by the soda machine. Stan was still pissed at him for the way he treated me. Fucker's so nice. For a minute I didn't even notice Kyle was still watching me. He cleared his throat just as I was putting what I knew was a useless lid on the bucket of chicken.

"Hey Kenny?"

"Yeah?"

"You think I could um..talk to you in private?"

Kyle seemed nervous. He avoided eye contact when I looked at him. I nodded and smiled at him, a gesture he returned weakly as he led me away from the counter. I suggested we go into the bathroom to talk, as there were no other customers or people using it. Besides, it was clean. Well, as clean as a KFC bathroom can get.

"Kenny, I know you're probably going to think I'm crazy", Kyle said as he closed the door behind us, "but I just needed to, well, tell you something."

At this point, alone with Kyle in a bathroom, I was trying to restrain every logical impulse to jump on him and fuck him until he couldn't walk. This process must have effected my ears, because I didn't hear a word out of his mouth. I only registered that his lips were moving, and for some reason they weren't on my cock.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Kyle leaned against the wall and put his head in one hand. "I know, I know, it's stupid..", I moved closer to him, willing myself to pay attention, "I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?"

He looked at me with a blush spreading across his face. "Don't play dumb, Kenny, you know what you did to me."

My mouth hung open, a response about to fall off the tip of my tongue. Kyle just smiled at me and came closer. I could feel his body heat and his breath on my face as he whispered. "Please?"

"Please what?" I needed him to say it. Needed more than my fucking pay-check for him to say it.

"I'll..I'll give you 50 bucks, just-"

Now I was just being mean. I loved the way my insisting made him blush. "What do you want me to do for you, Kyle?"

He tried to step back, but I wouldn't let him, grabbing his arms and forcing him to look back at me. I knew good and well what he wanted. It was the same thing I did. I just needed to hear it from him so I wouldn't feel like such a sex predator. Kyle shook a little as he stared at me, almost scared. I wasn't backing down.

"Please...fuck me." The look in his electric green eyes was that of humiliation, desire, and lust. Just when I thought I could put it all behind me, here he is. And the worst part was, he was right where I wanted him. Could I really do this?, I thought to myself, could I really jeopardize my friendship with one of the most awesome guys I know, just so I could use him as a cumdumpster?

No. Of course not.

"Kenny..."

No. I was fighting it. I was fighting a loosing battle against my more dominate head. I tried not to look into his eyes as Kyle moved his arms up my shoulders and looped them around my neck. He was leaning in closer, his breath hot on my cheek. It was infuriating. He had meant it to be. Kyle moved a hand from around my neck down my torso and began massaging me slowly through my khaki work pants.

"Kyle..not, not here."

He responded by rubbing harder and tangling a hand in my hair, knocking my stupid little hat to the floor. "You know you want ."

Goddamnit Kyle. It was all his fault. All his fault I pushed him against the tile wall, pinned his wrists above his head, and attacked his mouth like a voraphile. It was his fault I was shamelessly groping his ass and grinding myself against him until I felt him shake. Kyle's fucking fault I was growling into his ear all the perverted shit I wanted to do to him. Seriously, he was the one to blame.

"Tell me how much you want this.", I breathed in his ear, slipping my hand into the back of his pants and grabbing one perfect asscheek.

"I can't stop thinking about you...I can't stop replaying it in my head."

I wanted to tell him that I had too, that I was so freaked out by how much I wanted to touch him I was almost scared of saying it, but I've never been good with words. I think I've made that obvious over the years. I resorted to what I do best- fucking the living shit out of the object of my affection. I pulled Kyle's pants down and they slid to his ankles. I couldn't stop kissing him. I couldn't stop touching him. I was completely lost.

My tongue was in his mouth, my hands were on his body. That was the only thing I knew for sure. He kept breathing my name and arching his hips against mine. I reached blindly for the soap dispenser and pumped some onto my hand. Logic could kiss my ass. I was about to fuck my best friend in the bathroom of a KFC using hand soap as lube, and I was totally fine with that. Not that Kyle had any objections.

I let his hands go and grabbed his thighs. "You ready?"

He nods and loops his arms around my neck. I gave Kyle a sloppy kiss before holding him up agaisnt the wall. What happened next was a little awkward.

"What's the matter?"

"I, I can't pick you up."

Shit. Kyle was heavier than Bebe. Thinking quick, which isn't something I do normally, I turned him around and pushed him face-first into the tile. He swore and struggled until I grabbed hold of him and starting stroking, my other hand occupied with my own erection. I was going to fuck Kyle one way or another, goddamn it. He groaned and pushed back at me, bracing himself against the wall already. I was actually shaking. My shirt was still on and I was sweating. I was seriously...nervous. Not that I noticed at the time, how can you when you're about to-

"Mmm Kyle.."

He gasped and his face turned red. I could feel his knees buckle slightly as I entered him. Kyle made a whining noise and pounded the wall with his fist.

"I ff-forgot how big you were."

I smirked. Now he was just being flattering. I continued to push in slowly, grabbing his hips to steady myself. He felt just I remembered. I groaned his name under my breath, loving the way Kyle's body tensed and relaxed around me with every inch. Soon I was completely penetrating him and I pulled out slowly for my first thrust.

"You ready for it?", I breathed.

"You already made me wait too damn- _long_." Kyle thrust back on me and I fell forward, arms grabbing him, breathing in the scent of his Axe shampoo. I breathed his name and gave him a strong thrust, my little way of saying 'sorry'. I'm pretty sure Kyle's 'ah-oh ff-fuck' meant he had forgiven me.

My hands were all over him again. It seamed the deeper I went, the louder he moaned, so I soon found my balls slapping against Kyle's thighs almost painfully. But goddamn it was worth it. I slid my hands up his chest, somehow not having a problem with his lack of tits. In fact, his nipples responded so well to my brushing against them, I decided to rub harder.

"You like that?", I asked rhetorically.

Kyle groaned as a response and thrust back again. God, being fucking _embedded _ in that kid is like brain soap. I think I'm the bitch in whatever relationship me and Kyle have now. All I know is that it involves sex in the bathroom of a KFC, and that's my kind of relationship. I give it to him faster until I feel his pre cum slicking up my hand.

"Kenny I'm- I.. ah"

Kyle started shaking and I put one hand on his lower stomach and one on his balls, feeling both areas contract as he came. Looks like I got the bathroom dirty again, huh? The consequences of my very sexy actions weren't apparent to me at the moment, however. I was preoccupied with a sensation I summed up thusly:

"Nnnhhhgg..."

I released inside Kyle until it dripped down his thighs. I needed that. I needed that so fucking bad. The expression on his face told me he loved it, too. I guess it's true what Cartman says about KFC. The gravy is the best part.

Standing there panting, still holding Kyle to my chest wordlessly, I heard a noise outside the door. My eyes widened. Aw hell no. I pulled out and away from Kyle and grabbed my pants off of the floor. He must have heard it too, because Kyle was buttoning up just as I located my underwear. It ended up in a sink somehow. My life is average.

"We are so fucked.", Kyle whispered as he pulled his shirt over his Jewfro. I had to agree, especially since I heard the doorknob turning at that very moment.

"McCormick? What the hell are you doing in the ba-"

I can only imagine what was going through Mr. Clark's head when he saw Kyle and I. Me with my pants around my knees and eyes the size of saucers, and Kyle with no shirt and messed up hair, standing next to a gigantic and really quite impressive cum stain on the wall. His mouth hung open, and for a second I thought maybe he had had a stroke and died.

"You- you're fired.", He said in a small voice. Mr. Clark then turned around and walked away, a bit like a robot in the stiffness of his movements.

I looked at Kyle and grinned. "You were totally worth it."

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Sorry for the long pause between updates. I've been getting my site set up. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think of this chapter!


	8. Beige

I stayed in bed until noon the next day. Mr. Clark had fired me, leaving me with my $200 paycheck. I thought it was pretty high considering what I did in the one day I worked there, but it might have been in my contract. I wouldn't know, I didn't exactly read it. Kyle had also given me the 50 bucks he promised me. All in all, life was good.

That is, until I got a call from a person that unfortunately has my phone number.

"Um, hello?"

"Hey McCormick."

That voice sent a shiver up my spine. It was calm and intimidating and emotionless, the kind of voice murderers use when they say they won't tell where they hid the body. I gulped.

"Hey Craig."

He was silent for a few moments, which I found to be worse than hearing him speak. It let me remember that night he practically face-raped me for 36 bucks. The sad part is, if that was what he was calling about now, I would totally agree to it.

"I have an offer to make you.", Craig said coolly. A sound behind him let me know he was sinking into a chair. Probably wiggling his eyebrows and twirling the phone cord around his fingers. Oh, right. I'm the only one in South Park who still uses a corded phone.

"How would you like to make 300 dollars in one afternoon?", he paused for effect, "All you'd have to do is paint my house."

The handset slipped a little in my sweaty hand. Was he shitting me? Pulling some kind of cruel prank? Especially coming from Craig, this did _not_ sound legit. Maybe the mob was behind it. Maybe it was lead paint and he thought I'd be dumb enough to drink it.

"Let me get this straight...you're paying me 300 dollars of your own money to paint your house?"

He laughed. "Of course not", Craig said, "This is the money my parents gave me to give the painters."

I was still confused, perhaps more so.

"But-"

"Just get your broke ass over here if you want the money, McCormick." Craig hung up.

I took a deep breath and put the handset back on it's base. I needed that money. I needed it really, really bad. I would just have to paint the house, take the cash, and get the fuck out of there. What could possibly go wrong?

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

When I showed up at Craig's house, he was nowhere to be found. A ladder and can of beige paint were both standing next to a bush in the front yard, along with a lawn chair emblazoned with the Red Racer logo. I stuck my hand in my pocket and clutched the switch-blade Stan's Uncle Jimbo had given me when I turned 13. Maybe it was paranoid of me to bring it, but Craig scares the living shit out of me sometimes.

After about a minute of waiting; just me, my pocket knife, and my sitcom-length attention span, I decided to just go ahead and start painting. I pulled off my jacket and grabbed the can of paint. I had a lot of area to cover and I believed Craig, only one day to do it. As I started rolling on the stuff with the helpfully provided paint roller, I wondered why in the hell the Tuckers were painting their dark green house such an ugly shade of beige. Of course, looking at any colour for too long makes you hate it, and I had been staring at the paint for about a 15 minutes now. It was horrible.

The prospect of making $300 from a kid I had always been picked on by was strong, however. I rolled up the sleeves of my Cow Days Festival T-shirt and kept painting. Still, fuck my life. Seriously.

An hour went by, and I was sweating like Nixon and ready to dump the whole can of paint on Craig's goddamn smug head. The ladder, which looked like it had been around more than Cartman's mom, was just barely high enough to reach under the rafters. At the very top of the side yard I actually had to stand on the top rung, the one with the falling guy sticker on it. But seriously, what am I gonna' do, die?

Despite the physical labour involved, painting a house is really, really boring. Dip scrape roll roll, dip scrape roll roll, to infinity and beyond. I found my mind wandering to more enjoyable activities. I think Red has new jeans. Either that or some of her old ones started to fit her _really_ well. Wendy looked hot today too, but she's off limits. Besides, she'd probably beat my ass if I tried anything. I chuckled and dipped the roller back in the can of paint. There seemed to be only one constant in my affections lately, no matter how hard I tried to forget about it, it seemed like Kyle was always there. Usually naked. Often impaled on my cock.

After another hour and a half of boring painting, and not-so-boring fantasising, I put down the roller and wiped the sweat of my forehead. It didn't look half bad, if I do say so myself. I sighed and walked up to the door. The sooner I could get this over with, the better. Just as I was about to knock, I heard voices inside. Was Craig talking to himself? It wouldn't surprise me. I leaned back to look in the window, immediately regretting my decision. It was Craig all right, but he wasn't alone.

"..and that's it. Final offer. Think you can handle it?"

He was talking to someone, but I couldn't see who. They were standing in the doorway between the living room and the hall. I know this because Craig's house is built on the same floor-plan as Stan and Cartman's. In fact, everyone in South Park.

The other person must have answered his vague question in some way, because Craig was smiling like a madman now. Well, a madder man than he normally was.

He seemed angry, but what he did next surprised me all the same. "I can't believe you're doing this...you of all people. Shit, I actually _respected_ you."

There was a slapping sound and an outcry, "Ow! Don't hit me!"

I know that voice. Holy shit I know that voice-

Craig laughed. "I'm paying for you, Broflovski, I can do whatever the fuck I want."

No. Fucking. Way. I don't believe it. I'll kill him. I'll rip his guts out through his asshole and tie them around his neck. How could he do that to Kyle? Where does he get off treating him like that? There would be no 'getting off' for Craig if I could help it.

With the strength of at least 100 angry bears, I burst through the door to find Kyle leaning against the wall clutching his nose. Craig looked at me the way a squirrel looks at you when you're about to run it over with your bike.

"Kenny!", Kyle cried through the blood pouring down his face.

"Uh, hi McCor-"

I punched him in the stomach and he doubled over. "You fuck with Kyle, you fuck with me, dickwad."

Craig swore and flipped me off. He didn't look very intimidating bent in half. I turned back to Kyle, who was using his jacket sleeve to absorb the blood. "C'mon, Kyle, let's blow this popcicle stand."

He gave me a weak smile and followed me out of the door, but not before grabbing Craig's wallet from the incapacitated boy's back pocket. Kyle is so awesome. I grabbed his hand but quickly let go. Things had been weird between us lately.

"So why the hell were you at Craig's house?", I asked him when we were halfway down the block. When he didn't respond, I ventured further. "And what did he mean, 'I'm paying for you'?"

Kyle took his sleeve off his nose. It looked broken. He took a deep breath and looked at me, stopping me in my tracks.

"I..I didn't have any money to pay you."

"What?"

What the hell was he talking about? Just when I thought this situation couldn't get any more fucked up, there it was. I looked intently at him. A little shorter than me; definitely a different build, a auburn-red Jewfro, an old orange and green jacket, faded jeans, and a big Jew nose currently dripping blood down his face. He was beautiful.

"I wanted to do it again", he said softly, "but I didn't have any money."

Holy shit. My eyes widened and my mouth hung open. Did Kyle seriously think I would only have sex with him for cash? I put my hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"It's not like that, really, you don't have to-"

"Hey, Kenny my man!"

Forget Craig, I fucking hate Clyde. I hate him as he Kyle walks purposefully away in the direction of his house. I hate him as he claps a hand on my back and tells me something about about a brilliant idea. I hate him- if possible, more, when I tear my eyes away from Kyle to look at the money in Clyde's hand.

I guess I really am a whore, aren't I?

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Thanks for all the lovely reviews and alerts! :D If I get 100 reviews on this, I'll give whoever gives me the 100th review a giftfic about anything your little heart desires~


	9. Can't Keep A Good Man Down

"So, what do you say?"

The voice seemed to come from somewhere to my left, but I didn't really register who it was for a minute. How could I let Kyle think so low of me? Was I really that bad? I didn't want to trust Kyle's judgement, but it looked like I had no choice. I was about to get payed for doing some bullshit thing Clyde thought up, and Kyle was going home.

"I said, will you do it?" Clyde waved the 20 dollar bills in front of my face.

"What would I have to do again?", I asked slowly, "Wait, how much money is that?" Before Clyde could bat my hand away I grabbed the cash out of his hands and counted out 45 dollars.

"I'll give you that, plus all the change in my pocket."

I handed him back the money. If I knew Clyde, and I really didn't that well, this was going to be something sexual. Maybe he wanted me to fuck him. Well that wasn't gonna happen. I'd need more than 45 bucks to get it up for Clyde.

"What is it you want me to do again?"

Clyde facepalmed. "Tomorrow, at 5:00, I want you to run down Main Street-"

"That's it?"

He opened his mouth to talk again, then closed it and smiled. "Yeah, that's it."

What the hell was wrong with this guy? Clyde was going to pay me to run down the street. How lame. As he clapped me on the back and walked the opposite direction, I wondered why he was being such a bro to me all of a sudden. Maybe Clyde had finally had it with Craig's bullshit and was ready to join team Stan. I smiled to myself. Stan and Craig have always had a rivalry like that. I think it started in second grade,that thing with the pumpkins. Man, we _still_ don't talk about that thing with the pumpkins.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and kept walking. Today was fucked up. I tried to console myself with the knowledge of Craig's wallet in my jacket pocket, but it didn't feel as good as it should have. Nothing could happen to make today worse. Nothing.

I rounded the corner and noticed the chain link fence that usually keeps Mr. Adler's chickens in his yard had been torn down. It looked like a tree branch had fallen on the fence and crushed a large section of it. Just one more thing to inconvenience me. The chickens gathered around the fallen section of gate and watched me as I climbed over the tree branch jutting out onto the pavement.

"Fuck off.", I told them.

I think that's what made them angry. The biggest one of the group; there were about ten, flapped over the branch and pecked at my ankle. Those things may look all cute and feathery, what with their dispensing eggs and staring in claymation movies, but when they peck you it hurts like a motherfucker. I fell down on top of the branch and was soon covered in a living blanket of enraged chickens.

"Ahh, get off me you Goddamn chickens!"

It was no use. The last thing I remembered was feeling a sharp pain in my chest and seeing a chicken covered in blood. Not even chicken blood. My blood. How do I get myself into these things?

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

I woke up to the sound of my Primus ringtone. I can't remember why I got that thing. Primus sucks. I rolled over onto my stomach and grabbed for my jacket, which was about a foot away from me and covered in feathers.

"Uh, hello?"

"Dude, where are you?", Clyde's pissed-off voice came through my crappy cell phone reception, "I've been waiting for like 15 minutes, you comin' or what?"

I paused to think and scratch a particularly itchy feather out of my hair before answering. "Yeah, sorry, I died."

"That's no excuse, get your ass down here!"

I groaned. Main street was five blocks away, but hey, there was $45.00 involved. With one last string of obscenities at Mr. Adler's chickens, I grabbed my jacket and headed off down the street. It was time to rid myself of whatever dignity I might still have.

I walked slower by Kyle's house than time time allowed. I was just so confused. I needed to talk to him, but what was I supposed to say? How do you convince your best friend you're not a whore when you have sex for cash? Being late for my streaking appointment was the least of my problems.

When I rounded the corner onto Main Street, Clyde was waiting for me holding the number one enemy of streakers everywhere, the camcorder. For someone who had told me to hurry the fuck up minutes before, he didn't even seem to notice I was there. Clyde was busy talking to Tweek, who, to my slight reassurance, I knew would make a very bad camera man.

"No, you hold it like this on your shoulder and hold down the little red button.", Clyde explained.

"Like, like this?"

"No! Now you're filming that guy's ass!"

"Oh Jesus!"

"Hey Clyde."

Clyde finally noticed I had shown up and greeted me with a clap on the back. "Well it took you long enough", and then as an afterthought, "Hey, you don't mind if we film this, do you?"

"Yeah I do, actually", I told him, zipping off my jacket. It was best to do this before Tweek figured out how to work the camcorder. "Even if it's just my ass."

Tweek shot me a withering look and Clyde laughed.

"Why do you want to film it anyway, you wanna fap to it later?"

That's right, I played the gay card. I have no problem calling the kettle black when my future on Youtube is on the line. Clyde just rolled his eyes, but Tweek jumped about a foot in the air and shoved the camcorder into Clyde's chest.

"I'm out, man."

"Aw come on Tweekers, be a bro!"

Tweek couldn't be swayed, however, and took off down the street, mumbling something about Clyde being an asshole that I really couldn't argue with.

"So, I guess you're not filming it now?"

"Not filming what?"

Clyde looked over my shoulder. "Hey, Craig."

I turned to look at the source of the nasally emotionless voice. Why did Craig have to be here? I was fine with being naked in front of pretty much everyone else, but that guy is just a creeper. I tried to calm down, which mainly consisted of not running and not pissing myself, while Clyde explained to Craig about our little dare.

"Sounds fun", Craig said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "..well, strip, McCormick."

It sounded more like an order than I felt comfortable with, but hey, I was in no position to complain. I sighed and began taking off my clothes. Craig kept staring at me. I willed myself to think of horrible, unsexy things, really I did, I just didn't think hard enough. Hard. Heh, I made a joke.

Craig laughed. "Got wood, McCormick?"

I blushed. Godamnit. What was it about this guy that made me in to such a little bitch? I wanted to kill him, to fucking murder him with my bare hands, and I had a hard on for him. Awesome. I'd rather have the chickens again. At least I don't find them strangely arousing.

"Fuck you", I told him, trying in vain to cover up the boner I was usually so proud of, "let's just get this over with."

"All right, run all the way down to the South Park sign and Craig will follow you with the camera.", Clyde told me, passively amused at me and Craig's antics.

I rubbed my shoulders. Somehow I never considered how fucking cold it would be to run naked down the middle of main street. It was about three o'clock and freezing. At least it wasn't too busy. Craig's perpetual smirk grew wider as he hoisted the camcorder up to his shoulder and zoomed in on the goosebumps on my chest. I gritted my teeth. Unlike Tweek, Craig had real experience shooting film. He used to have his own TV show on our elementary school's closed-circuit cable. The only thing worse than being filmed naked in a public place is being filmed naked in a public place by someone who fucking hates you.

Clyde placed two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle, and I was off, running like my ass depended on it, because Craig was looking at me like it did.

"I bet you love this, don't you?"

"What?"

To tell the truth I though I'd love it more. The cold combined with my still semi-erect cock was making this jog pretty much the most uncomfortable thing I've ever done with my clothes off. I tried to look straight ahead and not at Craig, or at the little kid on the pavement who had just started to cry.

"Clyde's paying you to advertise yourself, isn't he? It's good for business", Craig watched as I started to blush like crazy, "..and you get off on the attention."

"I do not."

At this point I resorted to using the logic of a 6-year-old. I was still only about a quarter down Main Street, and I was already reduced to arguing with this nutjob. Craig sped up, running almost sideways to keep the camcorder lens trained on me, and I ran to keep up. The laughs of the people on the pavement meant nothing to me now, Craig was my biggest problem.

I waited for a snarky response, but none came. Craig simply ran next to me holding the camera over his eyes. At first this was calming, but then I started to notice just how many people were watching me. It was getting, almost...embarrassing. I gulped and sped up, my hands drifting to try and cover my now flaccid penis.

"Damn, the tape's stuck", Craig said, stopping to fiddle with the camcorder, "One sec, okay?"

"Yeah sure."

Feeling relieved, I followed Craig into a space between two buildings. An alley, if you will. I was glad for a chance to get away from the pavement and catch my breath. I rubbed my shoulders to stay warm. It was so cold outside today, I really should have considered these things.

The sound of the camcorder hitting the ground startled me and I turned around. "Damn, what happened?"

"I dropped it.", Craig said without an ounce of anger in his voice. It would be weird for anyone but him. He fell to his knees wordlessly and began gathering up the pieces of grey plastic that were now scattered over the ground.

I looked down at him. That sucks."

Craig looked up at me and I gave him a weak smile. Maybe that's what set him off. He dropped all pretence of picking up the pieces of the broken camcorder and sprang to his feet. Before I could move he had cornered me, one arm on either side of my shoulders. I put my hands up instinctively and he looked down at me through his black fringe and smirked. Craig pushed my chest against the bricks and I winced, feeling my back scrape on the rough surface.

"What the hell, man?"

"You know I could rape you right now, McCormick.", Craig growled at me, pushing my chest harder, "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I struggled to get away and he grabbed my neck. I stood perfectly still, my breaths shallow and controlled. This guy might actually fucking kill me in this alley.

"Don't play dumb you little bitch, you want me and you know it!"

I closed my eyes and gulped, too scared out of my mind to answer. One of Craig's hands left my neck and was back on my chest. My heart skipped a beat when I felt it moving lower. Craig smiled when he found what he was looking for. He leaned forward to whisper huskily in my ear.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you_?"

I made a very un-masculine sound in the back of my throat. In spite of everything I felt to the contrary, I was hard. My eyes locked with Craig's ice-blue ones and widened as he started stroking me slowly. The only thing I could think was: holy shit, am I being raped? I had always thought rape was kind of...well, kind of hot. This was terrible though. It was like having your ego poured through a funnel.

"Hey you guys, what's goin' on?"

I've never been more happy to see Clyde in my life. Then again, that isn't saying much. I'm never really happy to see Clyde. Craig broke away from me immediately, though Clyde only seemed to have eyes for his camcorder, which he knelt down next to as soon as he saw it.

"Wha- what happened to it?"

"Sorry bro", Craig said, wearing his consoling friend voice, "I dropped it."

I finally took a deep breath and a step forward, feeling at least somewhat safe now that there was a witness. Even if he hadn't seen anything. There were a few moments of silence in which I felt my heart rate return to normal and Craig patted Clyde's back. Then Clyde broke out in sobs.

Typical.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Sorry for the looooong wait, you guys. I've been busy with school work and my new website. Anyway, someone requested more Craig- is that enough Craig for ya'? (That's a rhetorical question, there is never enough Craig.) Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Only one more to go!


	10. Live To Win

The next day I sat on the edge of my bed and felt like taking a long, hot bath. I felt like it, but I couldn't, since my family doesn't have hot water in the house. Apart from freezing my ass off running in South Park weather, almost getting raped, and having my best friend disgusted with me, I really shouldn't have been feeling so bad. I had gotten the $45.50 Clyde promised that same day, Clyde thanking me through sobs for being 'a real bro'.

I sighed and put my head in my hands. I was a shitty bro. Kyle hadn't answered any of my texts. It was starting to get worrisome. Kyle taught me that word; worrisome. He taught me a lot of shit, really. You never think about how much someone means to you until they aren't there any more. Not there to teach you words. Not there to give you money. Most of all, though, not there to just...you know, be with. I fell back on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. What had I done to my beautiful bromance?

Even my goal of earning $1000 was coming up short. After all the stuff I had done the past two weeks, I was still about twenty-five dollars short. Fuck. All for nothing. All the sex and the humiliation and the face rape, which is technically also sex, for this? No. I sat up. Kenny McCormick was not giving up without a fight.

DDDDDDDDDD

I dialled the number slowly. Each click of my rotary phone sounded like a bomb planted in my heart, ready to go off and shatter my chance of love when I pressed the receiver to my lips. Holy shit that was emo.

"Hello?", I ventured.

"Hey, who is this?", the familiar voice on the other end asked. I breathed a sigh of relief that Stan had answered and not Kyle.

"It's Kenny", I told him quickly, "Is Kyle okay?"

I could hear sounds much like those made by my favourite video game, Revenge of the Galiptoids from Sector 10, in the background. Me and Kyle used to play that game. He would kick my ass at it, too. Probably because his game controller was _new_ and didn't have the grips worn off. At least that's what I always told him.

"Why wouldn't he be okay?", Stan asked, "Is there something going on with you guys?"

Wow. Kyle hadn't even told Stan how he felt about me. That kind of hurt. Those guys tell each other everything. Well, except for that time in 4th grade when we all had lice. Am I really as embarrassing as lice?

"Just let me talk to him."

I listened impatiently as Stan handed the phone over to Kyle. I was just glad he didn't say who it was.

"Hey."

Silence. Kyle knew my voice. I held the phone tightly, as if that would keep him from hanging up on me.

"Look..Kenny..."

I interrupted. "I know, I'm a whore and a terrible friend and I shouldn't have used you like that. I'll do anything to make it up to you, really-"

"Kenny I-"

This was not going well. My palms started to sweat. "Honestly Kyle, I'm so sorry! I mean at first, you know at first it really _was_ all about the money and the computer and running Crysis, but then- well then _you_, and..and..oh God this is so fucked up."

Silence again, during which I'm pretty sure I peed a little. I denied it later.

"Are you done now?"

"Begging? Yes."

Kyle laughed. "I was going to tell you that I forgive you, and that I understand the nature of our relationship." He paused to let my breathing return to normal. "You don't like me like that and that's fine."

My smile faded. This was what I wanted, right? Kyle was just an awesome bro who I fucked for cash who, through nothing but the grace of Raptor Jesus, was still my friend. I swallowed. For a victory, this felt like a really, really shitty one.

"Well I'm glad we cleared that up.", Kyle's voice said from somewhere to my left, "Bye Kenny, see you at school."

_*click*_

"Wait Kyle..."

Damn I'm slow.

DDDDDDDDDD

There was no way I could just sit on my ass and feel sorry for myself all day. But could I really go and talk to Kyle when he had just forgiven me? I sighed. My options were a) do nothing or b) make things worse. On multiple-choice tests I usually go with c, so that's what I did. I decided to try to do something to get my mind off Kyle. Something productive, at least. I thought about cleaning my room, but the thought made me queasy. I settled on cleaning out my backpack. I don't think that old thing has ever been cleaned, because it weighs about 50 pounds and I only have five classes. Still, if it would keep me from mourning the loss of my friend-with-benefits, it couldn't be that bad.

I began at the top and worked my way down. Some papers seemed to have actually disintegrated or had the ink washed out of them. Fascinating. I found some homework for two years ago that I still haven't finished, eleven pencils less than three inches long, a baggie of what I assumed was once pretzels, and a note from Wendy telling me that if I hit on her again she'd call the police.

Just as I was about to dump the crumbs and assorted past-due essays into the trash, a piece of paper fell out that had been stuffed in the front pocket. I picked it up. It was a schedule of school events for this month, complete with Comic Sans and Microsoft Office 2003 Word-art. They had handed these things out in gym last week. I guess I didn't bother to put it in my folder.

I scanned this week's events and noticed that the student council was going to meet in Mr. Garrison's room at 3:30. This news would have been boring as sod if I hadn't remembered that Kyle was in the student council. I checked the clock. 3:24. I had just six minutes to get my poor ass over there before they looked the doors on me. Worth it? Maybe. The right thing to do? Probably not. A cure for my boredom? Defiantly.

I dropped the paper and was out the door before you could say 'desperate'. I didn't have a _plan_, exactly. All I knew for sure was that I needed to talk to Kyle, maybe try to convince him that I never meant to use him for money. I wished myself luck with that. Fortuitously, school was only a few blocks from my house, and if I had no distractions or deaths, I could make it in time. The front gate was in clear view when I felt a hand grab around my arm, and found myself making a sound not unlike a terrified ferret.

"Going somewhere?"

I wheeled around to look at my least favourite person grinning at me, as if he knew what he was keeping me from.

"Let me go, Craig!"

He just laughed. I hated the way the poof balls on his hat flung back when he laughed. I hated the way he dragged me behind a tree and pressed my shoulders against it. I hated the way he whispered 'hello, McCormick' in my ear. I just fucking hated Craig Tucker.

"Seriously, can you molest me some other time? I'm on the clock, here!"

Craig smirked against my neck. "You still need money, don't you?"

He could tell from the way my face heated up that anything but a 'yes' was a lie. "Maybe..maybe a little." I pushed back against the tree but Craig held me fast. If I could just lift my arm I could look at my watch...

"Want to earn $100.00?"

My breath caught in my throat. Without thinking, I responded. "What would I have to do?"

Craig smiled at my sudden acquiescence. "I think it's best you agree to it before I tell you what I want."

This was it. In just about an hour, maybe more if Craig had more stamina than me, the bastard, I could have my goal. _One thousand fucking dollars_. How on earth could I say no? This was what I wanted all along, right? The reason I had fucked my best friend, washed a van in booty shorts, and showed the whole town my junk?

"Okay."

For a split second, Craig's hands were off me. I took my chance. I ran, ran like the devil himself was at my heels, like I had the green apple splatters, like my whole future was behind that door. A quick glance at my watch told me I had exactly two minutes before the gates locked. _Fuck _$1000. _Fuck _getting an awesome gaming computer. _Fuck _ running Crysis at 40 fps. But most of all- fuck my life.

DDDDDDDDDDD

When I got to the school I was completely out of breath. I lunged madly at the gate and pulled with all my might, every drop of pent-up adrenaline, but it held fast. My heart sank. I stared am my watch. It was 3:30. I looked up at the latch just in time to notice that _the gate swung inwards. _I told you I was slow. I threw my weight against the door and stumbled as it gave in. Just in time, too, because I felt the lock catch as I closed it hurriedly behind me.

I looked down the row of classrooms to my left. I was out of breath and my knees buckled as I ran for the doors, but my mission wasn't over yet. I had come this far to see Kyle, and Goddamn if I wasn't going to. The only occupied classroom came into my view quickly and I pulled the handle, remembering to pull this one. Someone made a startled noise as I burst into the room, but I didn't pay attention to Butters.

"Kyle!"

The room went silent. Mr. Garrison looked at me as though I had just pissed in his Cheerios. Kyle turned around at his desk, visibly embarrassed by being called out like that. I stood my ground. I knew how ridiculous I must look right now; sweaty, a bit rumbled from being pushed against a tree, scared out of my mind of something I usually didn't even consider- rejection.

"What?", Kyle finally spoke.

"I need to talk to you."

I had to keep my head in the game, or whatever other euphemism I could use for reminding myself not to think of ogling Kyle in his sweater vest. If anyone can pull off a sweater vest, it's Kyle Broflovski. Of course 'pulling off is exactly what I'd like to do to it right now, but like I said, I had to stay focused. Cautiously, almost fearfully, Kyle got up and followed me to the door. I grabbed his hand without thinking, and quickly pulled him out of the room to justify it. That's normal, right? Grabbing somebody's hand to pull them somewhere? Fuck I'm bad at this right now.

"What the hell is this about, Kenny?", Kyle hissed at me, pulling his hand away from mine and giving me a look that made Mr. Garrison's look downright peachy, "I told you we could still be friends, why did you have to barge into my student council meeting like that?"

"I need to, to tell you some stuff."

I'm so smooth, honestly.

"I know you said we can still be friends, and that's awesome.." I paused. This was the hard part, the part I hadn't even really considered when I was running like Forest Gump to the high school. "but I kind of feel.."

My mind went blank. Those green eyes were staring directly into my soul. Curls of red hair caught the sunlight. I could feel Kyle's body heat radiating off of him. There were a million words behind my tongue, but I seemed to be desperately choking on them. I wondered if the look on my face was giving me away.

"Kyle..."

He looked almost worried as he looked back at me. "Y-yeah?"

I reached out and grabbed his arm. The skin felt burning hot against mine and allowed me to breathe. I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to run any more in these dime-store trainers. I couldn't stand to see Kyle angry at my any more. This whole month, ever since I earned my first dollar, has been a bubble waiting to pop. The surface tension had to break, or it would all float away.

"I love you."

I became very aware of how stupid I must look, standing there with a half-smile on my face and my arms placed stupidly at my sides. Kyle blinked. He opened his mouth and looked at me, searching my face for any sign that I was fucking with him. Luckily he didn't any, though I can't imagine how. I was nervous as hell. After what seemed like an eternity, Kyle spoke.

"Please..please don't do this to me, Kenny."

"What do you mean?" Static sounded in my ear. _Doctor, we're losing him..._

Kyle put his head in his hand and slouched forward. "I said I'd still be your friend, you don't have to lie to me about why you had sex with me!"

My heart sank. Then it released its oxygen tank and went deeper. For such a smart guy, Kyle was acting like a total dumbass right now. Why didn't he believe me? What could I do to prove myself to him? Quickly I remembered the two most powerful things in the world: sex, which I figured wouldn't help me right now, and money. I shoved my hand in my pocket and pulled out my wallet, I grabbed Kyle's hands and opened them, and proceeded to empty the contents into them.

"Take it. $975.53, it's all yours."

"What the he-"

"This is all the money I made whoring myself", I explained, "but Kyle, you mean more to me than that." I took hold of his hands and clenched them around the wrinkled bills. A few coins fell to the ground, their clinking echoing down the hallway.

"Kenny...", Kyle began. His expression was unreadable. His body seemed to shake as he stood there. My heart started to swim to the surface, then felt the effects of the Benz and stayed put.

"Are you sure?"

What kind of question was that? "Of course I'm sure!", I told him, trying my best to sound sincere when I felt more nervous than I had ever been, "Dude, you and Stan are my best friends, you've always been the most awesome guys I know, but things have been different lately..."

I paused to watch him smile. It's a beautiful thing to see, really. Kyle pushed the pile of money back into my hands. I still don't know how, but he looked almost as scared as me.

"Even if, even if how we hooked up was unusual, that doesn't mean we can't be in love, right?" I took a deep breath. "Do you love me, Kyle?"

"I was willing to pay you $100 just so you would fuck me", Kyle half-mumbled, "does that answer your question?"

I grinned like a madman. Half from his words, and half from the way he was looking at me right now. Kyle was right; I should have known, should have been more careful. Now I have another chance. A very sexy, red-headed chance. I threw my arms around him. He was so warm, so alive, so _mine_.

"Kenny?", Kyle whispered. I responded with a happy sound in the back of my throat. My brain had turned off.

Kyle nuzzled his head into my shoulder and whispered softer. "I want you so bad right now."

Grabbing his ass and pressing his front against me told me Kyle wasn't lying. Holy shit this was not happening.

"Right..right here?" This was not the Kyle Broflovski I knew. That kid was reserved, smart, witty, wild sometimes, sure, but never sex-in-school wild. The knowledge that I had made Kyle feel like this had me hard whether it was right or wrong, and really, since when has something being wrong stopped me from doing it?

Kyle pulled me back toward Mr. Garrison's room. "All the kids should be gone by now.", he said.

I laughed, my breath catching a little in my throat as I realised what we were about to do. Sure enough, the room was empty and the door was unlocked, probably so Kyle could get his backpack. We shared a much-needed kiss just inside the door, uncontrolled, sloppy, and terrible if I didn't need it so bad. It didn't matter, the contact was enough. I grabbed Kyle's ass again and pushed him against me, letting him know that I needed this just as bad.

The windows were open and the curtains were pulled back, but like in that KFC bathroom, logic was taking a back-seat to the more important issue at hand. Kyle's hands were on the back of my head, pressing our lips together in more feverish kisses. All thought had now been transferred to my cock.

"Tell me what you want, Kyle.", I whispered in his ear.

Kyle responded by pulling at my shirt, prompting me to pull it off and throw it half-way across the room. "I want you to fuck me."

The blush on Kyle's cheeks was just icing on the cake. His sweater vest, shirt, and pants were all discarded within a span of about 5 minutes, and I had him pushed up to a desk in the next 3. Kyle made a groaning sound in the back of his throat as I massaged him slowly through his boxers. The look on his face at every move of my hand was hypnotising.

I picked Kyle up enough to set him on top of the desk, where he wasted no time in unbuttoning my pants. I ran a hand through his Jewfro and whispered his name as Kyle started planting tiny kisses on my stomach and chest. Kyle was so sweet. Too sweet, really. I missed dirty, adventurous, moaning-my-name Kyle. Luckily I had an idea about how to bring him back.

I pulled down his underwear in one move, surprising him out of his kissing. "I missed you so much." Kyle smiled, the blush on his cheeks deepening as I stared at his now-naked body hungrily. I captured his lips in a kiss while my hands travelled down his body. I felt Kyle's moan in my mouth when I came into contact with his hard-on. I stroked him slowly at first, loving the way he mouth felt against mine as his breathing quickened. I smiled and leaned over Kyle, my own hard-on now pressed to his knee. "What should I do to you now, babe?" Kyle groaned and pulled at my underwear. They slipped down my thighs before I decided to do something I'd never really done, consensually, before.

"Kenny? What are you-mm K-Kenny.."

This, this right here, had to be the gayest thing I'd ever done. I kept my hands on Kyle's thighs as I sucked him off. The way his body shook, the way he tasted, the sounds he made...I would have been worth it even if it didn't make my cock throb against the leg of the desk. Which it did. Slowly I went deeper, closing my eyes and focusing on Kyle's moans as I felt my gag reflex kick in. I became aware of a hand pushing down on my head and obeyed against my better judgement, my ears starting to tear up when I felt a bush of red hair touch my lips. Still, I kept going. Kyle was loving this, and that was worth it.

"Ff-uck! I'm gonna cum if you don't stop!", he cried out, "Fuck me! Right- nnng- right now!"

Oh yeah, I would tear out my own spleen to hear that.

"Are you ready?"

Kyle nodded and grabbed on to my shoulders, spreading his legs for me. I kissed him, then moved down to his cheek and neck to let him breathe. Kyle swore as I pushed against him, but the feeling was incredible. Kyle squirmed and bit his lip. I was not going to let this stop. Call me sadistic, but I knew Kyle's pain would go away if he let me in just a little further. I held Kyle to me and stroked his hair. "C'mon baby, I know you can take my whole cock in you."

I felt Kyle relax a bit and pushed deeper. I left a Hickey on his neck in thanks. "That's it, Kyle", I moaned, pushing harder now out of excitement, "you love having me inside you, don't you? Tell me how much you love it."

Kyle moaned. "Ah- Kenny, deeper!" He arched his back and grabbed on to me tighter as he thrust forward. I heard the desk squeak on the floor. I smiled. "I love you." One more hard thrust of my hips and I was completely sheathed inside Kyle. The way he cried out my name and grabbed hold of me for dear life was priceless. I started thrusting slowly, feeling the desk shake underneath us. Kyle leaned back and gripped the edge of the desk as I fucked him, bracing himself so I could go harder. I let one hand stroke his hard-on while the other grabbed his thigh.

"Mmnn..fuck..I love you, Kenny!"

My ego felt as good as my dick. I kissed Kyle in that breathless, needful way, and growled in his ear. "You close, baby?" Kyle nodded and broke eye contact with me, a blush spreading across his cheeks again. "Good.", I moaned, angling my thrusts to make him pant, "Cum for me."

Kyle grabbed me and pulled me against him. I was sure the desk would fall over. He grunted and dug his nails into my back. "That's right, baby.", I breathed somewhere under his hair. Kyle tightened up around my cock and let out a breathless scream as he came on our chests. I was so lost It almost didn't register with me that I was cumming, too. "Uuuhh..take it, Kyle...", I groaned, my energy depleting almost immediately.

I was just starting to pull out, grinning like a madman, when a faint sound caught the edge of my attention. Something like a door opening in the blurry space to my right. I didn't give a shit. What could possibly demand my attention more than Kyle right now? I started to rethink that when I heard a voice.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

I didn't stop to question how the hell Craig got through what I assumed was a locked gate, though I wouldn't put it past him to tunnel in convict-style. Or maybe his guinea-powers include teleportation. In either case, I wasn't going to let that jerkwad mess this beautiful moment up. Odd, really; I had never considered that pulling your cock out of another man's ass could be a beautiful thing, but I guess you just had to be there.

"Really awesome stuff.", I replied.

"Fuck!"

Kyle got up, a little shakily, I might add, and grabbed his clothes. I put a reassuring arm around him and kissed his cheek, before pulling on my own underwear and pants. My shirt had, again, left the vicinity. This was the most awkward thing I had done in upwards of an hour. Okay, 15 minutes. Don't judge me.

"Seriously", Craig continued, "The fuck?"

I rolled my eyes and took my arm from around Kyle to fold them both in front of my bare chest. "It's called sex, and I highly recommend it."

Craig surveyed the scene in front of him. Kyle was sloppily dressed and still looked a bit embarrassed, I was feeling like a pimp, and the desk we were on had only just managed to maintain it's structural integrity. I'd say if Craig hadn't done a lot worse shit than this, that we would be screwed. Craig tapped his finger on his chin, the strings on his chullo cap swinging with each one. "Here's the deal, McCormick-"

"No,_ here's_ the deal", I told him, buttoning up my pants, "You give me $25.00 and I don't tell Mr. Mackey that you're a sexual predator."

Craig scoffed. "Like hell I am!"

"I assume you're saying you won't pay him the money, because you certainly can't deny that you're a danger to society."

I Love Kyle. I put an arm around him again, nodding once in agreement. He was right, though. Craig was a nut, but a tough one to crack. Truth is, I had had just about enough of Craig's bullshit. I walked right up to him, still shirtless, my after-orgasm high making me feel fucking invincible. "You really think I could get in more trouble than you for this? I'm not exactly the one with a reputation to uphold, here."

He just glared at me. Craig couldn't argue that my having gay sex in a classroom would blow over much quicker than his being a gay rapist. With a heavy sigh, Craig reached into his pocket.

"Here's your damn money."

I smiled and grabbed the 20 and 5 like they were the last currency on earth. My goal of making $1000 was finally complete. I ran the bills through my fingers and gave Craig a broad smile. "Pleasure doing business with you."

He wrinkled his nose and stepped away from me. "It's a business doing pleasure with you."

Craig left wordlessly, looking equally disgusted at his own actions and mine. I stuffed my ill-gotten gains in my pants pocket and took a deep breath. Kyle laughed. The most beautiful sound in the world, that is. "That was crazy."

"Yeah. Lucky he's the only one that'll ever know we did this." I paused. "It's not like the school has security cameras or anything.", I laughed, then after a thought I added, "right?"

Kyle didn't answer.

"Um, right?"

Kyle went pale. With a shaking finger, he pointed to something over my shoulder. My eyes widened. I looked up to see a familiar black dome on the ceiling. Seriously, fuck my life.

DDDDDDDDDD

Later that day, after a very cleansing and quite productive shower, which I didn't take alone, Stan came over to Kyle's house to watch Jackass with us. I had just gotten back from Best Buy when Stan showed up with a box of Dem' Donuts and a bottle of Happy Cola. I was grinning from ear to ear for at least the third time that day, carrying a box containing the most awesome possession I had ever purchased. Legally.

"Hey dudes!"

Kyle greeted me with a quick hug. "Is that the computer you wanted?"

"The very same", I told him, setting the box on the couch.

Stan sat down heavily next to my fair-gotten gains and opened the bottle of Happy Cola. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the receipt I stuck into my jacket pocket. "Kenny, did you seriously go to Best Buy?"

"Yeah, why?", I asked. I took my place on the couch next to what would soon be Kyle's spot, admiring the view as the boy popped the DVD into the player.

Stan sighed. He grabbed Kyle's Macbook from the coffee table and opened it up. "You're such a noob."

He proceeded to open up Firefox and then took me to a site called . I watched, confused yet mesmerised, as he clicked his way around the site, checked the side of my box, and entered something into the search bar. "You could have gotten that same computer for about... $36.00 less."

My eye twitched. "No."

"Yeah."

Kyle came back to the couch and sat next to me, looking concernedly at the expression on my face. "That's the same amount Craig payed me to blow him."

"Damn, that sucks- wait, what?"

Even Kyle looked a little shocked. No. I was not going to let this get me down. Everything was going great for me. I had an amazing boyfriend, an amazing computer, and an amazing friend. There was also Cartman. Stan broke the silence with a laugh.

"So was it worth it?"

I laughed as well and put my hand on Kyle's ass. "Oh yeah."

DDDDDDDDDDD

Damn this took a long tome to update. Sorry 'bout that. I've been in school, working on my website, and RPing with kyleisgod (sometimes simultaneously). I hope you've enjoyed 1000 Dollars as much as I've enjoyed writing it. :)


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